I never intended to start a business. It began with a scarf. A chunky, mustard-yellow scarf I knitted during a snowy winter in Toronto, mostly to avoid doom-scrolling the news. I posted a picture of it on Instagram with a sarcastic caption: “Finally finished something in 2020.”
Three friends messaged asking if I’d make one for them. Then two more. Then a stranger.
Things slowly transformed. The kitchen table became a yarn jungle. A drying rack served as a display stand. I named the growing hobby The Cozy Corner, partly because every item came with a little card that told a short story: “The Blanket That Watched 10 Seasons of Grey’s,” or “These Mittens Survived a Breakup and a Blizzard.”
Word spread. Not fast, but faithfully. I set up at weekend markets, where I learned two key truths: 1) people love touching soft things, and 2) everyone has a knitting story—a grandmother who taught them, a boyfriend who once tried and failed, a blanket they still sleep with.
My knits came with warmth and narrative. A sense of care in a mass-produced world.
And now, I have a website, a waitlist, and a part-time assistant named Jo (actually a cat) who couldn’t knit to save her life but was amazing with spreadsheets (I mean spreading sheets).
I get something else: purpose, peace, and a cozy community I never expected.
All from a scarf…
